My roomie asks me to accompany her to a wedding on Saturday. A friend's older sister's wedding. In Atherton. Who am I to possibly say no? We show up at a lovely home on at least 15,000 square feet of lot, probably more, and as we walk to the backyard we find a wonderful set up of tables, heat lamps, four bars, a large lawn area and a dancefloor with a dj.
One of the best features of any wedding is when they serve cocktails before the start of the vows. This was one of those types of weddings. In the cocktail numbers below, every one was a vodka/7up.
#1. I find my place on the lawn where there are a few chairs for the older of the guests, but it's mainly standing room with an aisle made of flower petals. I meet a few of Roomie's friends, her family and get a general outlook on the scene. It'll be a nice one.
#2. I manage to get my second and find my way back to Roomie. Things are sunny, bright and promising. Then I see two people who I never thought I'd see again in my life...my freshman year roommate's ex girlfriend and another girl from our dorm who I knew only as the standard sorority bitch who thinks she's better than everyone else because of how she looks. Now I'm just as into beautiful women as the next person who likes women, but the minute anyone allows that hotness to translate into a bitchy or better than you attitude, I have no more use for them. This is that girl. And yes, she looks amazing.
I finish my second cocktail and go for a third, but there's someone at the bar shooing people away because the ceremony is about to start. Probably for the best.
The Ceremony: Presided over by a friend who got certified for the day. He's casual, emotional, and funny. He drops the rings and exclaims to the bride as he hands them to her, "Look what I found." He has a small mic and whispers to the bride and groom (Matt and Mia) during the service. Some of these you can hear. Including, as he hands the bride's ring to the groom, "Nice watch!"
It's obvious that the two are very attached and well in love. They both tear up while reading their self-made vows, and there's not many dry eyes in the congregation. Except one guy. He looked like he had had his tear ducts surgically removed for unknown reasons. He doesn't get teary.
Then it's over. Short, sweet, and on to....
#3. I'm on top of this one as soon as the service ends. They start bringing out appetizers (shrimp cocktail, crab cakes, cheeses and meats. I remark to my roomie that they better serve dinner soon, or I might be in considerable trouble.
---------portion, Joint 1------------
#4. I grab this one as dinner is being served. I drink through dinner, eating a steak, risotto and a salad because I know I better. We listen to the wedding party give speeches about times past with the bride and groom. The bride's father goes into an ill-advised but well intentioned part of the speech attempting to compare the newlyweds in some way to poor people. Nothing about the surroundings, the food, the alcohol or the manner of the party implies any sort of knowledge, let alone understanding of poverty. He moves on quickly, but not before getting a few very strange looks.
#5. Middle of dinner. Speeches, speeches, more speeches. I'm feeling fuzzy and trying to keep my table entertained. I'm also trying to avoid any sort of eye contact or recognition with the ex roomie's ex girlfriend and her bitchy friend from school. The table is taking pictures of J and I, and are amazed to hear that we're indeed not dating. They apologize for taking pictures. In some sick joke, the bride has seated us at a table of all married or engaged people.
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#6. Dinner has ended and people are standing around, eyeing the dance floor. We stand in groups talking about the dinner, the happy couple, the setting and the speeches. Everyone is still talking about the poor speech.
I head to the bathroom to be assaulted by an older woman. "Who are you?" "Why I'm A___ C____, who are you?" She introduces herself and asks how I came to be at the wedding. I tell her about my connection to the roomie and she says, "Oh you're the handsome man J___ brought!" I later hear that she asks my roommate if I can come and play pool boy for her. I consider a change of jobs.
#7. On this one, what I've been avoiding all evening has happened...crazy ex has noticed me and wants to catch up. This is fine. I talk with her, making small talk, exclaiming on the fact that we both never heard from that roommate again. But then, in comes the mean one. She wants to know why she doesn't remember me from school. I tell her that it's because I didn't really hang out on the row much. She asks if I helped her move her stuff in the dorms, to which I tell her no. "But I asked all the 4th floor boys to help me." And I say, "yes, but that's probably the exact reason why I wouldn't have helped you."
She looks confused. People aren't usually so short with her. Or so mean. And I can see she's a little weirded out that I'm not flirting with her. She's used to that. I tell her it's good to see her again, and move off to mingle.
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The dancing begins in earnest. The bride is on the floor now and everyone else is getting in on the action. I need the name of the DJ because he's playing some of the sickest mash ups I've ever heard. He mixes Don't Stop Believing with a hip-hop background. He does some other things that I need to hear repeated. Somehow I've managed to get Roomie on the dance floor, which she swore she wouldn't do, but it might be because her mom is sauced as all hell and flirting with me. She refers to her mom as a cougar.
-----------portion, Joint 2-------
At this point, the dance floor is like a drunken orgy, minus the sex. Everyone is getting their freak on. The bride, the groom, the grandparents, the parents and the better than most drunk ass post-college students who still know how to attack a party.
#8. As I'm walking to the bar for a new drink, I'm attacked. Literally, beelined for, cornered and jumped on...it takes me a few minutes to realize what's going on, but it's the bitchy chick from SC. She's coming at me, "hey, I wanted to talk to you...I couldn't get over the feeling earlier that you didn't like me or something."
I'm confused. I mean, I don't like her, but why does this girl care? It's not in the nature of hot girls who are bitchy to care who likes them or not. "I'm sorry you got that impression, I thought our conversations tonight had been pleasant." (this is true, I had gone out of my way to be exceedingly pleasant, if a bit abrupt.)
"It's just, I've never felt like someone was so condescending to me."
It takes every muscle in my body to stifle the hilarious laugh I'd like to let out of me right now. I'm a bit touched by the fact that I was able to have such a long lasting impression on someone, just by virtue of being standoffishly polite. It's quite apparent in her face and tone that this is something that has bothered her throughout the course of the evening. The way she approached me swiftly, quickly and quietly showed that she had been waiting for a chance to have this conversation.
I'm drunk at this point, obviously, and not really in any mood to fight. I don't even have the urge to try and turn this conversation to my advantage. All I want is another drink and the dancefloor. Later, the roomie tells me that this conversation went on for about 20 minutes.
It ends when I tell her, "I'm sure you're a great girl, I don't really know anything about you, and I've enjoyed our conversations tonight. Whatever happened in college is long in the past, let's just have a good time!"
Tears well up in her eyes. "But I don't understand why you're being so mean to me."
"I'm not being mean, I just want to dance. Really, it was nice talking to you again."
The look on her face as I walk away gives the impression that someone had hit her in the back of the head with a brick. I start to feel sorry for her when I realize that really, in the way she treats people and tries to let her looks get her everything she wants, one person being slightly short with her shouldn't be too bad in the end. Trust me, I was tempted to go all out on her, but for the sake of the party and my own sanity, and my true desire not to blatantly make someone cry, I took it easy.
--------portion, Joint 2---------
#9. Last drink of the evening. My sis is on her way to pick us up (big props to the DD), and I'm slamming one for the road. A caterer walks up and starts talking to me. I vaguely recognize some of the words as English. I can see a bit of an outline of her face. I try to make some logical sense out of what she's saying, but the idea of forming words into sentences at this point is an idea that's a bit out of my grasp.
I remember portions of the car ride home, I roll a joint when I get in, and wake up in bed the next morning, not really sure how I got there, but positive that I didn't smoke the joint.
I. Love. Weddings.
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